


metaphors for misery

by lqbys



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dysfunctional Family, Eating Disorders, Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lqbys/pseuds/lqbys
Summary: Ace purges, Sabo's a nihilistic little prick, and Dragon thinks he isn't paid enough to deal with all this crap.





	metaphors for misery

**Author's Note:**

> i've had 10k of this dumb au in my drafts for the past2 months and i don't really know what to do with this so whateverrrrr i guess i'll just dump it and disappear
> 
> alsoooo about the relationships tags. i guess yall will just have to wait and trust me :',)

"So. What's the plan."

"Uh," Ace said.

"The. Plan."

Sabo waited, so did Ace, both staring at each other until he couldn't take it anymore.

"You said you had a plan. To get us outta here? Jesus fuck."

"Don't blaspheme. I got us."

Sabo sighed. He pulled on his tie, too tight around his neck, and ignored the way church people kept staring at them. Didn't they have any fucking praying to do? God. Look at him blaspheming yet again.

Sainte Marie de la Trinitée was one hell of a sketchy Catholic church, but so were they—sketchy Christian kids, or at least officially—and maybe they fit in just right with these assholes. They sat neither in the far back nor right under Jesus’ nose, rather right behind the old ladies and in front of the middle-aged couples, squished between different kind of human misery you learnt to enjoy with time. Sabo hated mass, religion, and pretty much everything on earth, but Ace was having a blast. And planning a plan that'd get them the hell out of here, or so he said. 

You couldn’t really trust anything his dearest brother said, see? Not unless he was tripping. 

"It's way too fucking hot in there," Sabo muttered.

Ace clasped his hands together. His upper lip glistened with sweat, and he looked his usual pale, livid self.

"Probably everyone's sins cooking up."

Sabo snorted, kicking his foot up the benches for half a sec before he remembered where he was. Manners or whatever.

"Fucking Dragon chilling in his Tesla while we bathe in the smell of decaying bodies and middle-class mediocrity. Christ almighty," he spoke under his breath, a visible twitch of his lip as he scowled.

Oh, he'd talked a little too loud. Preach, whatever the pastor was saying. Sunlight filtered through the elegant vitrines, red and green and blue bouncing against the marble statues. Freaky stuff. The echoes of chants and prayers made shivers run down Sabo's spine, but that was mostly on the joint they'd smoked earlier. Anyway. Ace looked pretty miffed.

"Stop fucking cursing," he said.

"Huh, you first?"

Ace opened his mouth only to shut it as quickly. Ah, his brother sure was a little slow in the head. Maybe it had to do with being narcoleptic, or the shitty synthetic drugs he took, or the alarming lack of food going down his throat. Sabo wouldn’t really bet, so, whichever, really. He tapped his cheek with two fingers, where his scars met.

"So. Do you plan on planning a plan anytime soon or."

"I said I got us didn't I?" Ace's gaze found Jesus', nailed on the huge wooden cross behind the pastor, and didn't let go. "Now lemme atone for my fucking sins in peace."

"Fine, pray for your fucked up soul or whatever," he spat.

Sabo crossed his arms over his chest and munched on the edge of his collar. He closed his eyes and he, too, tried hard, really hard to communicate with some higher form of intelligence - power? - but all he could picture was Koala's tits. Man, they were some good tits. A boner during mass? That one for you, Virgin Mary. He couldn't keep quiet for long anyway.

"What about Sterry," he hushed, keeping his eyes screwed shut and mind full of good stuff (Koala over Jesus, it was a given).

"What about that little shit."

"He part of the whole Prison Break scheme? He in this with us?"

"Don't be ridiculous,” Ace sneered.

Sabo barely contained a scream of pure satisfaction. He opened his eyes, crossed his chest and mouthed hell yes.

"Pray the lord. Luff likes him, tho."

No answer to that, but if the flash of disgust crossing Ace's face was anything to go by, Sabo guessed their shitty step-brother could very much go fuck himself.

"Sweet."

People stood up all around them. They followed just a heartbeat later, Sabo patting dust off his pants. He caught one of those elderly shooting him a nasty glance, but only smiled in return. Mama didn’t teach him much but she did teach respect alright. These neighbors, they hated them like they were getting payed to. Maybe with good reasons, but Jesus said forgive and fuck, hadn’t he?

Not that he’d fuck any of those middle-class white collar pricks anyway, but he had that kind of philosophy down.

Sabo tipped his head back, lips curling down as he studied the high ceilings, the pillars sculpted so nicely—claustrophobia kicked in rather quick. In such a vast place, full of echoes and shadows? Go figure.

"First things first," Ace started, suddenly serious. They weren't singing their hallelujah and the priest was glaring hard. “We gotta get rid of the nanny."

"Roofies?" Sabo suggested, interest piquing. Now they were talking.

"Fuck no."

The priest bristled. They were bound to get kicked out one point or another. Sabo squared his shoulder, sang along some lines and pretended he wasn't talking eventual homicide under God's scared roof.

"Then what?"

He looked left, but Ace was still singing. He knew what he was insinuating, but really hoped they'd just drug the guy with horse tranquilizer and split. Wouldn't be so bad, would it?

His brother looked at him sideways. "Drop him cold."

"... shit."

Ace nodded gravely.

He hoped nobody was listening. God surely was, but if he closed his eyes on child sexual slavery, Apoo’s back-up computer’s shady hard-drive, world hunger or whatever shady shit Poutine was up to, he could keep 'em closed a little longer. Sabo pinched his lips tight so he wouldn't smile when the rest of them sang their misery with great passion.

"I mean sure but how. He's jacked. You seen his tattoos? They mean jail time and body count or whatever. What if he sleeps with a gun? Shit, he probably does," Sabo rambled, face scrunched in confusion.

Oh, this killing business was getting complicated. Ace only flashed him a V sign, sure of himself and his great plans. Ha. Confidence was one hell of a thing. They'll probably come up with more later, Sabo told himself. He had faith in his brother, always did. You couldn’t trust the guy, but you could trust the fire in his eyes when he told you he’d rock heavens and hell if it meant saving you. 

Ace inspired that kind of thing. In another world, he’s already caused end of eras, revolutions, and terrible wars, but in their shitty world, his lids fluttered and Sabo pinched his forearm hard enough to bring him back home. 

"Cocks aren’t nutritional, y’know," he mused.

Ace almost decked him.

When mass ended, they were the first to go, dozens of judgmental eyes burning holes on their backs.

"Holy fuck. Almost died in here."

Sabo unlaced his tie and chucked it away somewhere.

Was it Hugo Boss, or Armani? Being rich meant not giving a single shit and he lived that sort of life fully. Ace was loosening his own tie too, obviously not quite as dramatic as his brother, fringe sticking to his damp forehead. The cathedral’s gigantic doors closed behind them with a loud thud. What a waste of time.

"Let's get wasted in the skate park," Ace proposed, already trotting down the stairs.

Sabo shook his head. "Can't. Look."

A few feet away, leaning against a car that wasn't the Tesla they rode on the way here, Dragon, who wasn't wearing the suit he had this morning either. Ace whistled, kind of impressed. You had to give it to the guy—he possibly was richer than them, and nobody was richer than them.

"Well fuck me."

Reluctantly, the teens got closer. Dragon's face was hard and stony as ever. As if he wasn't even trying to look friendly or fit in back in society, never mind going back behind bars. Well, the face tats didn't help a lot either, nor did the gun around his belt. In Sabo’s mind, it couldn’t really be real.

A convicted felon, jailer, ex-gang leader with a bounty on his head as full time baby-sitter? The downside of capitalism, he’d say.

"Nice tie, sir," Sabo grinned. "I lost mine. Mind if I borrow yours?"

On good days, Dragon'd buy them ice-creams or weed so they'd shut up and stop being little shits. On the other hand, when he used church time to do some side-jobs including lots of drugs and a handful of murders, he wasn't in the brightest of moods, and you ought not to cross that.

“Haha… kidding, right.”

Dragon was still glaring at him. Sabo ducked his head down quick and got inside the car.

Ace was already slouched inside, so he leaned in real close, whispering hurriedly.

"Forget it, we can't drop him. This is a stupid idea—"

"Shut up," Ace hissed, pushing a hand against his mouth mere seconds before Dragon took the driver's seat. "You dumb? You retarded?? Shut the hell up.”

"Seatbelts," Dragon ordered.

They both obeyed, though Ace’s eyes didn't stop screaming murder at his stupid brother. Now he was on the hitlist too? 

He rolled his eyes, swatting Ace’s hand away. "He hears us talking crap about him 24/7."

Of course he did, but most times he wasn't even listening, indifferent to their banter. To him it was the same as two rich kids threatening to blow their damn brains off when they didn't have their way. All bark no bite. You got used to it with some time.

This, though? It was different. Ace looked dead serious.

Dragon was a cool dude, pretty chill at times, but inflexible and scary as shit. Rules were rules. Parents’ wishes came first. He didn't take any of their shit. That one? They couldn't easily scare off like the other nannies and whatnot so far. Sabo liked him. He was challenge. Challenges were exciting. Too bad he had to disappear first for them to do so too.

Sabo opened his mouth to add some dumb stuff, but the ex-PMC’s voice coming from the front killed all conversation.

"Your mother wants you both home before dinner. We'll head back now."

"Oh joy," Sabo mumbled.

Ace fell asleep in the car and didn't wake up until next morning, obliviously missing dinner. And breakfast, then lunch.

Ma was pretty pissed.


End file.
